


One Way Or Another

by forbiddenquill



Category: Faking It (TV 2014)
Genre: Blood, Demon dealing, F/F, Karmy as Hunters!, Lots of angst and blood apparently, Supernatural/Faking It crossover, Werewolf killing, lots of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 18:07:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1827442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbiddenquill/pseuds/forbiddenquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karma and Amy as Supernatural Hunters. Amy wants revenge. Karma wants to stay with her. </p><p>-</p><p>Finally, Karma says, “Its okay to be scared.”</p><p>Amy sniffles. She looks at Karma, waiting for more.</p><p> “Look, when the police came into our house that night with you in the middle holding my teddy bear, I didn’t even think about the police sirens and the ambulance. I was just looking at you, with your red eyes, messy blonde hair and the blood on your hands. I hugged you, remember? But you didn’t say anything. You were in shock and I was scared and I was just holding you, not letting you go. And when your tiny arms finally wrapped around my body, I promised, even swore to myself that I was never letting you out of my sights again.”</p><p>Amy exhales. Karma reaches out to hold her hands and they stand there, breathing in each other. Amy closes her eyes and pretends that everything is okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Way Or Another

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no idea what happened here. I was just hit with this question: Would Amy sell her soul for Karma? And well, this fic happened and I'm pretty proud of it even though it's a bit messy here and there. Comments would be well appreciated and please don't hate.

Amy wakes up, instinctively reaching for her Desert Eagle, nestled safely in her waistband. Her body is tense and coiled, her mind snapping awake. Her green eyes search the room for any type of danger but she relaxes when she sees that it’s just Karma, who has woken up just to make a cup of organic tea. Karma is sitting at the dinner table, flipping through the morning newspaper and casually glancing at the sharp knife next by her arm every now and then. Her auburn hair is tousled and bed ridden and there are shadows under her green eyes. It’s normal; a hunter rarely gets enough sleep but it makes Amy frown. Karma has a face reserved for beauty pageants and prom dates and it still makes Amy wince when she realizes what her best friend has given up on.

“Hey,” Karma says softly without raising her eyes. She knows when Amy is awake or near; it’s like having a telepathic connection or something. “You want some coffee?”

“Jack Daniels is what I need,” Amy mumbles. She checks the clock and sees that she’s only slept for three hours.

Karma looks up, her pretty lips twisted into a pout. “You need your vitamins,” she says. The words makes Amy chuckle; it must be hard to wring out what her parents have drilled into Karma’s head. She slides off the mattress, crosses the room towards Karma and checks the headline. Nothing new. Nothing good. Nothing supernatural. Today is a day meant for travelling then.

“Are you packed up?” Amy asks. They’ve been residing in New Orleans for three days now, hopefully trying to sniff out trouble. So far, nothing. The desire to kill something makes Amy’s blood boil. She hasn’t used her gun for a while now; no doubt the bullets would rust.

“Yeah,” Karma says, her eyes gazing at Amy thoughtfully. “Maybe we should stay here for a few more days.”

Amy internally groans. Karma’s not someone who’s meant for travelling. She wants to see the entire world as they go, wants to see the amazing sights and spectacular views, wants to do something before a stray bullet hits her in the back. She wants to go through this the way she’d go through a road trip. It irks Amy because she has a mission to do, she has a vengeance she needs to satisfy. She still has nightmares about that night, the night of blood and yellow glowing eyes. Sometimes, Karma catches her tossing and turning in bed and after shaking her awake and telling her that it was just a dream, they both share the blanket and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Amy always relaxes when she hears the rhythmic pounding of Karma’s heart; it reminds her that there is somebody else with her, somebody who will never leave.

“The trail will go cold,” Amy tells her.

Immediately, the brightness in Karma’s eyes fades altogether. She slumps back against her chair, sighing. Amy doesn’t know why she even tries; she always knows the answer.

“I’m sorry,” she tries to say but Karma just shakes her head.

“It’s okay,” she mumbles, “I understand.”

“Tell you what?” Amy goes down on her knees so that she can look up into Karma’s eyes. She forces a smile; smiles are incredibly hard to come by nowadays when you’re a hunter. Even though it’s obvious that Karma is resisting, she has to smile back. Amy laughs and leans forward to peck a kiss against her unsuspecting lips.

Before Karma can kiss her back, Amy is already leaning back and talking.

“After my personal vendetta is over, I’ll take you into the nearest car we can find and we’ll both travel around. Just the two of us. Against the world. Against all the crap and evil shit people have gotten themselves into. I won’t care about them anymore. I care about _you_. I care about us. And if somebody comes knocking into our doors, I’ll take my gun and I’ll—”

But Karma cuts her off by grabbing her face and kissing her once more. Their lips slide against each other and Amy is breathing hard, unable to take much of Karma. Her fingers reach out to grip the back of her neck and the kiss deepens and Amy feels as if she’s holding her breath underwater, enjoying the feeling of being in the sea, drowning slowly in Karma’s lavender scent and tea flavored lips. Karma is humming against her lips and she’s smiling and it makes Amy’s heart pound twice as fast as normal.

They pull away. Karma’s green eyes are bright.

“I love you,” she murmurs.

“I know,” Amy responds.

“You just Han Solo’d me.” Karma laughs. Amy doesn’t realize just how much she loves that laugh until she no longer hears it.

.

Amy’s hands are full of blood. Thankfully, it’s not her blood but she’s surprised to find out that her fingers are shaking. Her hands haven’t shook in a very long time. She looks up, dazed and confused, her mind pulling a blank when she tries to remember what has happened. She flinches when she sees a dead body in front of her, a body of a young girl who looks no older than thirteen. A small pool of blood surrounds them both and Amy is breathing hard, unable to process anything.

She looks down at her clothes. Bloodied and full of dirt. Her shirt is torn at the side and her arms are full of scratch marks. Faintly, she hears someone call her name but she’s too overwhelmed by the sight of her own image. What the hell happened? Why is she sitting on the floor with a dead body lying in front of her? Why is she covered in blood? And who is calling her?

Somebody suddenly grabs her shoulders and shakes her. Her vision snaps back to normal and she sees Karma kneeling in front of her, saying her name over and over again, her voice pinched with fear and worry. Amy reaches out and touches her cheek. Karma doesn’t even mind the blood. She seems to relax when Amy exhales her name.

“Karma,” she murmurs. “What happened?”

“It’s okay,” Karma tells her, avoiding the question. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Karma pulls Amy into her arms, her hands bunched tightly against Amy’s blood soaked shirt. There’s a silence that hushes over them both and Amy realizes that her best friend is crying, shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping her tears inside. Amy wraps her arms around Karma’s neck, running her hands over the other girl’s back.

Bits and pieces of the night come rushing back. She finds herself thinking of vampires, of bloodsucking monsters who prey on the children, of the dead child’s sweet smile and soft voice. She remembers reading the news about five children kidnapped and drained of blood when the bodies were found. She remembers driving to this city with Karma singing a song and Amy laughing. She remembers meeting the dead child only to have her kidnapped a day later. She remembers tracking the vampire’s liar into an abandoned warehouse, remembers giving Karma a quick kiss for luck, remembers the fear in the dead child’s voice when she begged to be spared. She remembers the vampire’s fangs on the child’s neck, remembers the smell of blood and death as the life seeped out of those eyes, remembers the rage and fury that overwhelmed Amy, pushing her into action. She remembers ripping apart the vampire’s throat with her own knife, remembers the dead blank eyes of the girl, remembers cradling her as the adrenaline of the fight finally faded into exhaustion.

The memories shake Amy. She lets out a sob, knowing that Karma must be feeling so wrecked right now. She charged into battle without a second thought; she could’ve killed herself and even though Karma should be scolding her for being so stupid, she doesn’t. She holds Amy tightly, never wanting to let her go and Amy lets her.           She looks down at the body of the dead child and wonders why on earth she joined this life.

.

Karma scrubs off the dried blood from Amy’s fingers with a towel. Amy winces. They’re sitting in the car they managed to steal. They’re staying off the side of the road. Amy can’t drive without thinking about the vampire and the dead kid and Karma is too tired to do much. So they decide to sleep together in the backseat. Amy’s hands are still covered with blood. They left the warehouse in a hurry after all, not saying anything and Karma holding on tightly to the back of Amy’s shirt, obviously not letting her out of her sights. And now that they’re here, drowning in each other’s silence, Amy knows she has to say something.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles.

Karma looks up at her. They only have the moonlight for illumination and it casts a shadow across Karma’s face, heightening her round cheeks and dark green eyes. Amy’s chest stings. Sometimes, Karma looks so beautiful that it hurts.

“It was really stupid,” Amy continues, “I could’ve died. Could’ve been turned. And I’m really sorry. I am. But when I saw that vampire bite its fangs into the kid’s neck, I lost it. I’m sorry. Karma. Please.”

Karma sighs. She reaches out to brush off a strand of blonde hair from Amy’s eyes.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she mutters. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

Amy grabs her hand and squeezes. “I can name a few things you’ll do if I’m ever stupid enough to get myself killed. You’ll go back to your parents and go to college. You’ll open up a coffee shop and meet somebody new. You’ll fall in love all over again and you’ll get married and have three kids and one of them is named after me. And when they go to school, you’ll sprinkle a bit of salt around their shoulders and their bags and in their lunch bags and you’ll spend the rest of the day decorating the house and watching movies on Netflix and cuddling with your significant other. And then you’ll get old and you’ll look back on the memories and you’ll tell yourself that you led a wonderful life.”

Amy doesn’t realize that Karma is crying. She’s too busy looking at the ground, trying to imagine this life for her best friend, trying to imagine Karma living a life without her in it. The thought squeezes her heart. Ever since she’s been a kid, Karma has always been there for her and after the tragic incident that changed her life, Karma still didn’t budge. She breaks off from her thoughts and looks up, surprised to see that there are tears streaming down Karma’s cheeks.

“What is it?” Amy asks, her voice breaking.

“You’re not going to die,” Karma tells her.

What happens next is expected. Amy leans forward and kisses her. Their hands roam each other’s skin and they’re breathing into each other, holding on tightly, never wanting to let go. The smell of blood and sweat overwhelms her senses but Amy doesn’t care. Karma still faintly smells of lavender and she’s kissing her as if it’s the last time, which it might be. Being a hunter means not knowing what’s going to happen tomorrow. Being a hunter means you could die at any time. And Amy wants to make sure that while she’s still breathing, she’ll be able to spend every moment with Karma. There’s some fumbling with their clothes and Amy’s skin is on fire. She drags her fingers against Karma’s back and Karma is whispering her name. They keep on kissing and Amy’s heart is rattling inside her chest, a loud and painful thudding that she’s sure Karma can hear.

When they’re done, Amy is spooning Karma, gently playing with her curls and running her nails on the back of Karma’s neck. The silence is quiet and peaceful. The only sounds in the air are their breathing.

“Karma?” she murmurs.

“Hmm?”

“If I do somehow end up dying because of a stray bullet,” Amy begins. She knows that this is a bad time to say this but she has to. She needs Karma to know, “I want you to do all of those things that I just said.”

Karma flips over so that they’re facing each other. Amy doesn’t mind the close proximity. She presses her forehead against the other girl’s and leans forward to kiss her. Karma pulls away gently.

“I can’t imagine doing all of that with somebody else,” she murmurs. “It’s always been you, Amy.”

“That won’t last,” Amy says.

“Nothing lasts.”

Amy pouts, the way Karma always does when she doesn’t get her way. She wraps one arm around her best friend. She thinks of Karma as her best friend rather than her girlfriend because that’s what Karma has always been to her. That’s what she likes to think of Karma. She leans forward and kisses her again and she isn’t surprised to find out that Karma is crying once more, thinking of a future that has happened yet. She pulls her close, nuzzling her nose into her auburn curls and tries to fall asleep. There’s still a world to save and monsters to kill, after all.

So she wipes off Karma’s tears and falls asleep listening to her breathe.

.

“Go to sleep, Amy,” her mother says, tucking her in bed and planting a soft kiss against her forehead.

Amy smiles dreamily. She closes her eyes, hears her mother’s footsteps fade and tries to grasp unconsciousness. She thinks about the movie she and Karma watched that afternoon. It’s the one thing that Amy can clearly remember; the twinkle in Karma’s eyes, her little outbursts of laughter, and her sweet and soft smile. It’s the memory she holds onto, the memory that turns into a bittersweet dream. But that’s before the screams begin.

She wakes up, dazed and terrified. She knows something is wrong. And there are loud noises down in the kitchen and there’s sobbing, screaming, shouting. She slides off the bed, reaches out to grab the teddy bear Karma had given her during her seventh birthday. She walks across the room, presses her ear against the door and listens, her chest tight. _There’s a murderer_ , she thinks to herself. She looks down and hugs her teddy bear, her fingers shaking. Her heart is pounding loudly inside her ribcage and she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She thinks about calling 911 but the phone is downstairs and she’s too scared and terrified to open the door.

She thinks of her mother and her father. They need her help. What if they’re at gunpoint? What if they’re begging the killer to spare them? Amy makes her choice. She opens the door, thinks about the time where she and Karma pretended to be ninjas. _I must be a ninja now_. Even though she’s sweating with fear and her entire body is shaking, she manages to tread carefully on the ground, not making a sound. She glances quickly at the living room and all of her hopes gets squashed when she sees that it’s a mess and there’s blood on the floor. She faintly hears something growling and the fear makes her brave. Determination hardens her thoughts. She heads down the stairs, ignoring the shattered pieces of furniture and picture frames. She ignores the overwhelming smell of blood and animal. _Animal_? She asks herself. _Maybe the killer has a dog_. She ignores that possibility that it might just be too late.

When she reaches the kitchen, she stops. Her so called bravery and determination fades. Her eyes widen and her hand jump to her open mouth, stifling back a scream. No matter how many times she’ll try, the image will never leave her head. She’ll wake up in the middle of the night because of it.

Her mother is lying on the floor, her eyes open but dead, unseeing. Her chest is ripped apart and a large pool of blood has been adorned around her. Amy looks around, expecting to see her father in the same position but what she finds is something worse. A humane figure is crouched over another body and she can hear chewing noises, predatory growls that makes Amy’s skin crawl. She doesn’t have to take a closer look to know that it’s her father the monster is eating.

The figure suddenly stops. It looks up and Amy catches sight of dark hair, glowing yellow eyes and lips pulled back to reveal sharp incisors. She stumbles back and then she’s screaming because it’s looking at her, blood and saliva dripping from its mouth and its hungry, it wants more and its coming after Amy, growling and snapping. _What is it_? Amy panics. _It looks like a werewolf!_

She throws her arms over her head, expecting it to pounce but it doesn’t. Instead, it’s still and it’s watching her curiously, its mouth twisted in a snarl. Amy is breathing heavily, her chest rattling with each breath as she waits for the inevitable, waits for the pain and agony, waits for death. But the monster just shakes its head and runs across the room on all fours, jumping into the counter and heading for the window. Glass shatters and pieces fly over Amy’s hair. She brushes them off but winces when she accidentally cuts herself. She stumbles forward, heading for the phone. Her hands are shaking and she can’t help but look at her parent’s bodies. She’s horrified. _This can’t be happening_ , she tries to tell herself, looking at the open wound on her father’s chest. _They can’t be dead. They just can’t be._

The first person she calls is Karma but the other girl doesn’t answer. _She’s asleep_ , Amy realizes so she calls 911 instead. As she waits for her call to be dispatched, the world finally crumbles. The tragedy slaps her across the face and makes her eyes sting. Her parents are dead. A monster killed them. She’s an orphan now. When the lady on the other end asks her what’s her situation, she breaks down and sobs and tells her everything.

What happens next is a blur of police officers, searing sirens of the ambulances and Karma’s hand in hers.

.

The next day, a pair of FBI officers arrive and ask her questions. They’re sitting on the porch of the Ashcrofts’ house with pads of paper and FBI identification cards pulled out. One of them is too tall with long wavy hair and soft eyes with an even softer smile. The other is shorter but rougher with sandy cropped hair and green eyes. As they ask her questions, Karma slips out of the door and stands next to her, quickly grabbing her hand and squeezing tight. Amy is still recovering from shock so it’s good that her best friend is here, offering support and kindness. It makes her voice louder as she recounts her tale.

The short one glances at his partner when she mentions the yellow glowing eyes. The tall one nods in response. When Amy finishes her story, the short one (he calls himself Dean) reaches out and tells her that they will catch the monster who did this to her family. Amy is so moved that she starts crying and Karma wraps an around her shoulders. The tall one (he says his name is Sam) gives her a handkerchief to wipe off her tears. They give her a card to see if she can remember anything else and when they leave, Amy turns to Karma, crying and sniffing and says,

“I want to be just like them when I grow up.”

.

 _But they never found them_ , Amy thinks as she drives forward, never looking back. Karma is leaning on the shotgun seat, her head on the window and sleeping peacefully. Amy glances at her every now and then, loving her, cherishing her and wanting her so much that it hurts. She looks back on the road, remembering the disappointment and anger when she found out that the two guys had disappeared. Karma had told her that they’d find the monster themselves, that they’d be the one who’ll save everybody. _We’ll be the heroes for once,_ Karma said.

 _Heroes_. The word leaves a dryness in Amy’s mouth. Who would’ve thought being heroes would mean blood and tears, of loss and pain and tragedy? She thinks of the stories her mother used to read for her. They always talked about princes and dragons and evil witches. Amy hasn’t met a dragon yet but witches are nasty. _Where were the princes_? She asks herself. _Dead. At least I’m here now._

After a few months from her parent’s murders, Amy researched about the same kind of attacks she had seen. Eventually, she bumped into a guy named Garth who told her all about the supernatural and that what killed her parents was probably a werewolf. After listening for a while, she put down her foot and wanted to take revenge right away, wanted to train as soon as possible and stab that monster with a silver knife. She was eager and ready to take on the evil that had plagued the earth. The memory makes her laugh. _That_ Amy Raudenfeld was fourteen and stupid with skinny arms and knobby knees. _That_ Amy knew nothing at all.

 _I wish I hadn’t met Garth_ , Amy thinks darkly, _I would’ve worried about boys and prom and Karma. Not about the fate of the entire world. Not about vampires and demons and werewolves._

But she’s made her choice now. She’s twenty-two, still young in her years. She glances over at Karma once more and thinks about her promise. Once all of this is over, she’ll finally take Karma to see the beautiful side of the world.

.

“Hey, Amy check this out,” Karma calls from the table.

Amy puts down the shotgun she’s cleaning and slides off the bed. Her bare feet tread softly on the ground as she crosses the room towards her best friend. They’re somewhere in Virginia since Amy got too tired from driving for hours. Karma had offered but she rejected it immediately. The last time she let Karma drive, police cars had been gunning them down and they went under for two months.

“What’s up?” Amy asked, leaning over Karma’s chair and letting her blonde curls cover most of Karma’s face.

“Stop it, buttface!” the other girl said, laughing and pushing her off playfully.

Amy smirks. She sits down on the table, reaching out and picking off an apple from the basket. She bites into it and watches as Karma spreads out the daily newspaper on the surface. Her eyes immediately latches onto the headline: ROGUE BEAR ATTACK IN RICHMOND. She reads it over Karma’s shoulder, her chest twisting and turning and making her feel as if she’s twelve years old again. Karma finds her hand and squeezes it. When she’s finished, Amy leans back and lets Karma trace patterns on her skin. _She’s waiting for my reaction_ , Amy thinks but she doesn’t know what to say. The moment has finally come. She’s going to get her revenge, she’s going to kill this monster who took away her family but there’s a sort of detached empathy filling up the hole inside her heart where her parents used to be.

“I’m going to kill this bastard,” she says, loud enough that she starts to believe that it’s going to be come true.

.

The ride is uneventful. Karma tries to play 20 questions with her but Amy isn’t in the mood. Normally, when she sees Karma pout, she’d be doing anything for her but right now, her thoughts are full of blood and yellow glowing eyes. Her knuckles turn white on the wheel and she’s gritting her teeth, suddenly feeling as if she’s going to break down. Images of her mother’s ripped out chest and her father’s still dead eyes come rushing back. She can still smell their blood, almost as if she’s back in that kitchen, being fucking terrified. In her mind’s eye, she sees the werewolf ripping her father’s throat apart and she feels sick once more.

Strange emotions begin to take over. She recognizes pure hot burning fury but there’s also fear mingling with it and excitement and impatience. She doesn’t understand the rampant feelings trying to overwhelm her, doesn’t understand why her throat is getting choked up and she suddenly can’t breathe, doesn’t understand why her fingers start shaking.

It’s nighttime so she can barely see what’s ahead of her but she nearly hits a deer when she’s not focusing on the road. It comes out of nowhere, looking so ever innocent if it hasn’t tried to kill them both. Swerving to the left and hanging on to dear life, she hears Karma scream her name as tires screech against the pavement and they’re spinning out of control. Amy’s body slams onto the wheel and pain takes over for a few puzzling seconds. The world stops moving and she’s pretty sure that she’s died and gone to heaven but she’s always believed that when you’re in heaven, there’s no more pain and her fucking chest still fucking hurts.

 _Must be hell then_ , she thinks as she raises her head and immediately says, “Karma?”

“You fucking idiot!” Karma screams. Amy’s eyes adjust. She sees that she hasn’t hit anything—or anyone, to be specific—but they’re on the open road so there’s not much life around here. Except for that stupid fucking deer. Amy reaches for her gun but Karma sees and slaps her hand away.

“What?” Amy demands hotly, whipping her head around and glaring at her best friend. She stops short, however, when she sees that a small trickle of blood running down from a gash on Karma’s forehead. Worry and fear replaces her anger but when she tries to reach out to tend the wound, Karma frowns and pulls back.

“You’re bleeding,” Amy says plainly, as if it’s not obvious enough.

“I know,” Karma mumbles, waving her off, “That’s not important. What’s important is that you looked like you were reliving your worst nightmare back there. Amy, you were _shaking_ and holding the wheel as if it was a lifeline! I saw your eyes and you were fucking _terrified_. Tell me what’s wrong. We’ll forget about the fact that you nearly ran over a _deer—_ ”

“Deer.” Amy’s head snaps back to the rear window. She squints against the darkness but realizes with dismay that it has disappeared. “That deer nearly killed us! I’m going to find it and I’m going to put a bullet through its—”

“Amy!” Karma shouts, loud enough that Amy’s brain pounds. She winces, closing her eyes and waits for the backlash but Karma is strangely quiet. When she opens her eyes, she sees that Karma is staring at her with the most heartbroken look on her face. It silences Amy, makes her stop thinking about blood and yellow glowing eyes and her mother’s blood on the carpet because whenever Karma looks at her like that, it always feels as if the world is going to fall apart.

“Karma,” Amy starts to say, suddenly feeling ashamed. She wants to wipe the blood off her face, wants to make sure that it’s okay but the look in her eyes state that if she does exactly that then they’re going to have a problem. She knows what her best friend wants her to do but she can’t bear to apologize and explain everything. It’s like trying to explain what water tastes like. It’s too impossible. But Karma just sits there, bleeding and waiting, obviously knowing that she’s going to wait this out for as long as possible.

Amy opens the door and steps out into the open road. The cold makes her shiver but she doesn’t care. Her fingers start to shake and the cold freezes the tears starting to run down her cheeks. She looks up at the moon, trying to take a deep breath but she ends up sobbing even more. She hears a door opening and footsteps on the pavement and Karma’s hand is wrapped around hers and they’re standing there, listening to each other breathe. Finally, Karma says,

“You’re scared.”

“Of course I’m scared!” Amy says harshly, whirling around to look at her, “This is the monster that killed my parents! I spent eight years learning about werewolves and all the other crap that goes along with it! I’ve killed things and sometimes people. I’ve watched others die and others kill. I’m sick of it but then I finally get the chance to gut the son of a bitch and it’s like I’m a kid again. It’s like I’m seeing my parents for the first time. I’ve been waiting for this moment and now that it’s here—I don’t know what to do.”

Karma looks at her, eyes wide. Amy is still crying and she’s ashamed and angry at herself. She did not spend nearly half of her life being a hunter only to have her act like a stupid kid once more. She wants to act tough and get a gun and kill things without a second thought but right now, all the doubts and insecurities and fear are starting to smother her. She wants to breathe but how can she when the air is toxic?

Finally, Karma says, “Its okay to be scared.”

Amy sniffles. She looks at Karma, waiting for more.

 “Look, when the police came into our house that night with you in the middle holding my teddy bear, I didn’t even think about the police sirens and the ambulance. I was just looking at you, with your red eyes, messy blonde hair and the blood on your hands. I hugged you, remember? But you didn’t say anything. You were in shock and I was scared and I was just holding you, not letting you go. And when your tiny arms finally wrapped around my body, I promised, even _swore_ to myself that I was never letting you out of my sights again.”

Amy exhales. Karma reaches out to hold her hands and they stand there, breathing in each other. Amy closes her eyes and pretends that everything is okay.

.

“Agent Miller,” Amy says, flipping her FBI card.

Amy sees Karma hide back a smile. They’ve just arrived in Richmond and have headed straight to the morgue. Amy is all work and no play, her face a pinched look of concentration. The morgue attendant is puzzled and confused as he pulls out the container holding the remains of the body. Of course, the official cause of death is a bear attack but Amy knows the signs of a werewolf. Heart ripped out with clean-up messy as hell. Always seems like the work of some animal gone rabid. She checks the information she required from the police, frowning when she realizes that the werewolf killed a middle aged man who had a wife and a three year old child. For a moment, she is still, fury running through her veins. _Another family ripped apart_ , she thinks darkly as Karma checks the body.

“Agent,” Karma says, no longer smiling. Amy puts down the files and heads over towards her.

The body has been neatly cleaned up but it’s clear that it took hard work. The chest has been sewn together but there are patches of skin that look new. Amy’s eyes trail towards the man’s face. He is handsome, gruff with a thick beard and a broad nose. He’s dead now. _I wonder how his family is_ , she thinks sadly. She checks the arms, nods when she sees the long gashes and scratches that mark the skin and gently puts it back down again.

“I thought this was a bear attack,” the morgue attendant says, sounding irritated.

“Procedure,” Karma answers, patting Amy on the back. “Thank you for your time.”

As they’re walking back to the Mustang they managed to steal from a car shop in Petersberg, Amy is silently seething and Karma is soothing her in a calm voice, trying to tell her that they’re close to having the revenge they need. Amy tries to hide the fact that there is some part of her that doesn’t want things to end. She guesses that it has now become an obsession that she refuses to let go. A troubling question takes root in her brain. After she kills the werewolf, what now?

“Think of your promise,” Karma says as they lean against the hood. Amy has opened a bottle of water and is drinking it greedily. “We can travel the world once we’re done.”

Right. Sometimes Amy forgets. She gives Karma a small smile and reaches out to squeeze her hand.

Everything is okay, for now.

.

They’ve tracked the werewolf to an apartment where it’s been staying for two weeks. Amy thinks about the times she’s been chasing this monster and how it’s been jumping from one city to another. There are too many times where they lose the trail but it always comes back, giving Amy the fire she needs to kill it. She would’ve killed it sooner, if Karma hadn’t insisted that they save some lives on the way to vengeance. And since she’s Karma, the girl Amy loves to pieces, she agrees.

It’s nighttime when they drive the Mustang into the driveway. Amy gives Karma a once over. The other girl is wearing jeans and a jacket; standard hunter clothes. She can move freely and with strength. She won’t die easily. Somehow, there’s doubt and fear mixing in with Amy’s conflicted emotions about the whole thing. She reaches out to grab Karma’s hand.

“Don’t die,” she says.

Karma smirks. Her auburn hair glows in the moonlight and her eyes are the same beautiful dark green that Amy has been looking into for the past fifteen years. They’re as familiar as her own and it’s the same with the rest of her. Amy knows and has burned every detail of Karma into her mind. She can’t imagine living a life without Karma but she knows that she doesn’t have to. Today is not the day they die. She always tells herself that.

“I won’t,” Karma says, cracking a grin and leaning in for a kiss. “Just don’t die as well.”

.

 _This wasn’t supposed to_ _happen_ , Amy thinks as she says Karma’s name over and over again.

The werewolf wass stronger than they thought. And of pureblood as well so it changed the moment they barged in through the door. Karma pulled out a machete and proceeded to slash the air as the werewolf came charging in. An inhumane yowl pierced the air and suddenly, Karma was flat on her back with the monster leaning over her. Amy pulled out her Desert Eagle and aimed for the heart. Unfortunately, the wolf rolled back and roared. It was no longer human, Amy saw. Pale yellow eyes stared right back at her, the same yellow eyes that had haunted her for too long. Its claws were long and sharp, seemingly glinting in the illumination of the sad little light bulb swaying over their heads. Its lips were pulled back to show jagged teeth and fangs with saliva dripping down its chin. Amy was breathing heavily, her fingers shaking on the trigger of her gun. She hesitated, her grip faltering and the werewolf grabbed the chance. It leaned back on its hind legs and jumped forward.

Karma screamed, “AMY!”

But Amy stumbled to the side, crashing into a coffee table. The werewolf hit nothing but it was on her again, as quick and agile as any werewolf would be. Pieces of glass stabbed at her skin and she was moaning, her entire body racking with pain as the werewolf loomed over, ready to kill and maim. Its claws grappled for any flesh but Karma was suddenly there, pulling her out of harm’s way and willing letting herself be the target. Amy only had time to grab her gun before there was a scream and the metallic smell of blood filled the air.

“KARMA!” Amy yelled as the werewolf slashed her stomach open.

After that, everything was a blur. Amy swung the gun forward before the werewolf could get another hit in. She didn’t hesitate anymore; she was blindly pulling the trigger over and over again, relishing the loud whimpers and yelps of pain the monster emitted. Her eyes were wide open and she watched as the thing that tore apart her family stumbled to its knees, watched as the monster quietly shifted back to human form, watched as it gave its bullets wounds a puzzled look before finally hitting the ground and letting go of its last breath.

But it wasn’t over.

And now she’s kneeling over Karma, frantically pressing her hands over the long and deep gashes that has marked the other girl’s stomach. She’s crying, sobbing her heart out as the tears roll down her cheeks. _This can’t be happening_ , she tells herself; _It wasn’t supposed to end this way._ The blood pours out in steady streams, running through the spaces between Amy’s fingers.

“Karma,” Amy gasps, shaking her best friend, desperately clinging to any hope of saving her, “Karma! Come on! Don’t die now! I need you.”

Karma is barely conscious. She clings to Amy and there’s blood on her lips, blood leaking through one corner of her mouth, blood just everywhere. It’s not the first time that Karma is soaked with her own blood but this is the first time where she doesn’t laugh it off, where instead, she cries. Amy is still sobbing as well, hating the way things turned out. _Not supposed to end this way,_ she thinks helplessly.

“Come on,” she continues, thinking that if she keeps talking, Karma has no choice but to talk back. _Stay a bit longer_. “You can’t die now. We’re supposed to go back to the motel, clean off the mess we made and make plans in travelling around the world. We’re supposed to go to places we’ve never been before. We’re supposed to go back to your parent’s place and actually finish college. We’re supposed to put all of this away.” She lets out a shaky breath, clutching to Karma’s hand as if it’s a lifeline. Karma weakly squeezes. _She’s already turning cold_ , she realizes and it just makes her cry harder. “Come on,” she repeats, _“I’m_ the one who’s supposed to die, remember? _You_ were supposed to do all the things I told you to.”

Karma is staring at her, looking scared and terrified. But most of all, heartbroken.

“Do all…Do it all,” she says, mumbling the words out because she’s slipping through Amy’s fingers.

“No, no, I won’t,” Amy tells her, running her bloody hands over Karma’s cheeks. “I won’t do it without you.”

Karma closes her eyes and for one moment, Amy is seized with the fear that she might be gone already but when the other girl opens her eyes and inhales a shaky breath, she holds her closer, trying to grab onto the warmth that’s already fading.

“You lied to me,” she says, her voice breaking. “You said that you weren’t going to die.”

“I’m sorry,” Karma manages to choke out. Her green eyes are still bright, still wonderfully bright. It makes Amy smile. No matter how much she’s endured, there is always a light in her eyes. _The light won’t fade_ , Amy tells herself. “I’m sorry,” Karma repeats.

Amy shakes her head, the tears falling on Karma’s already pale face. “What are you sorry for?”

“I—I broke my promise.”

 _I promised, even swore to myself that I was never letting you out of my sights again,_ Karma said.

“Don’t,” Amy says, sobbing still, “Karma, don’t you dare—”

But the hand in hers suddenly goes limp and Karma Ashcroft’s life ends in the middle of a sentence. Her eyes are still the same shade of green, the same color but there’s no life in them anymore. For once, her eyes are empty, devoid of any emotion, no longer full of life and laughter that Amy graciously needed. Amy’s shoulders shake and she’s clinging onto her body, pressing her fists against Karma’s back and burying her face on her auburn curls. She wants to scream, wants to rip apart the world, wants to kill the monster who did this. _The werewolf’s already dead_ , she reminds herself with detached emotion. _There’s no one to kill_. She can’t take her vengeance because she already has it. And yet…why is she still feeling like shit? Why is she still feeling this strong emotion that she can’t shake off, that she can’t push away? There’s nothing left to do. Karma is dead. Karma is dead. Hunters die all the time. They knew that. They always knew that. But Amy still won’t believe it. The anger and sadness that overtook a small part of Amy’s heart is now replaced with grief and denial. The feeling of loss is replaced with numbness as she looks at Karma, the curve of her face, the shape of her dead eyes and the open mouth.

 _She’s dead_ , Amy finally realizes, _She’s really dead_. The realization breaks Amy apart. She sobs harder and holds Karma, her best friend, her lover, the one person who stuck with her through and through, the one person who never left. _But she’s gone now_. Amy soothes down the auburn curls, pressing her body against the cold lifeless one. Somehow, underneath the smell of all the blood, Amy can still smell her lavender perfume.

.

Amy is stumbling into the night, holding the box with her photo, some graveyard dirt and cat bones. The roads are crossed alright and the middle ground is what she needs. There’s an emptiness inside her, a large Karma shaped hole in her life. She knows that Karma would never forgive her if she knew but the pain of losing her, the pain of never being able to see her face again is fueling her choice. Her hands are freezing as she claws the dirt, her arms jerking, her fingernails getting covered with dirt. She shoves the box inside and then hurriedly covers the hole with the earth.

When she stands up, she hears a sweet little voice behind her,

“A hunter, eh?”

She turns around. Standing in front of her is a pretty blonde girl with blue eyes and a sickly sweet smile. She’s wearing a simple dark lady suit and a diamond ring glittering on one finger. _A girl,_ Amy thinks blandly. Amy studies her for a moment, her skin crawling at the thought of making a deal with a _demon_. She fights down the urge to stab her with a knife and tells herself to calm down. There is a bigger picture to see. This is something she’ll only do once.

“Hello,” she says pleasantly.

“Save it,” the demon snaps, “I know what you want already.”

Amy bristles visibly. She clenches her fists and takes a deep breath, thinking of Karma.

“Then it’s a deal right?” Amy says. “You get Karma back and my soul and I get ten more years with her.”

“Hmm.” The demon thinks for a moment, her fingernails grazing softly at her chin. “No.”

The hope that’s been flaring inside Amy ever since she thought of this plan immediately dissipates. She gapes at the demon, shock shaking her bones. _No_? What on earth does that mean?

“What?” she demands hotly, stepping forward, “Why? It’s a fair trade!”

“You’re a hunter and I’m not going to spend the rest of my demonic life trying to run from you. The less hunters there are, the better. I’m willing to give you _five_ years instead.” The demon smiles and her eyes change from blue to black. “I’m being generous here so just accept it.”

To her horror, Amy thinks about it. To spend five more years with Karma, to see her, to laugh with her, to love her with everything she has, to not be held back by her quest for vengeance. It’s what anybody would do. It’s what anybody would be tripping themselves over just to get. It’s another chance, a second shot at being happy and Amy makes her choice.

“I can find another crossroads demon,” she says.

“Rules have changed, sweetie,” the demon says, smirking, “Any hunter willing enough to sell their soul only gets five years. It’s the easiest and fairest way to get rid of you lot.”

Amy doesn’t have to think twice about it. “Deal.”

The demon smiles. She walks over, gently soothes down Amy’s clothes and seals the deal with a kiss.

.

When Amy comes back to their motel room, Karma is already up and running, changing out of her bloodied clothes and fixing her auburn curls. There are slash marks on her shirt but her skin is flawless, except for some bruises and scratches that she got months ago. The deep gashes made by the werewolf are gone and she’s here, smiling and laughing and already asking Amy where she went. Amy has stopped by the doorway, frozen in shock as she stares at her best friend, drinking in her presence, looking at the light in her green eyes, the curve of her smile and that wonderful laugh as Karma says.

“What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Amy doesn’t say anything. Just crosses the room and embraces her. Karma is taken by surprise but her arms are around her now, gently running her hands against her back. Amy breathes in her lavender smell and her chest tightens in pain because there was a moment, one terrifying moment where she believed that she would never be able to smell that perfume anymore. But Karma’s here now. And she doesn’t know what Amy did.

Everything is okay.

Five years is a long time, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning a sequel after this.


End file.
